Capítulo 409: Paper
Far beyond the Earth, an enormous alien mothership floated in the silent vastness of space. Inside its command deck, tension buzzed like an electric current, the crew scanning monitors and adjusting controls as they coordinated their fleet's movements.
"Sir," began the soldier at the monitoring station, his voice unsteady, "one of our Resetters… has been eliminated."
The captain, seated in a high-backed chair at the center of the room, barely reacted. He raised an eyebrow, his expression more annoyed than alarmed. "Oh?" he said, his voice even. He had already received reports that a group of unknown forces on Earth's Polar Star might pose a threat. While losing a Resetter was unexpected, it wasn't entirely shocking. After all, Resetters were powerful, but not invincible.
The captain glanced at the monitoring soldier. The man's shaky voice and hesitant demeanor grated on his nerves. A soldier panicking over a single loss was unacceptable. The captain made a mental note: after this mission, the soldier would be reassigned to a less critical position. For now, though, there were more pressing matters.
"How are the remaining Resetters?" the captain asked, his tone sharp but measured. "What's their status?"
The soldier hesitated again, his face pale. He swallowed hard before stammering, "Sir… all four Resetters have been destroyed."
The captain froze. For a moment, he thought he had misheard. His calm demeanor cracked, and his eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you say?"
"All four Resetters… the entire fleet… destroyed," the soldier repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
The captain leaned forward, gripping the arms of his chair. "That's impossible!" he snapped. "Even if the enemy had some advanced weapon, they'd need to exhaust every resource just to take down one. How could all four be eliminated so quickly?"
Before the soldier could respond, another voice shouted from across the room. "Sir! It wasn't a weapon—it's a person! A single person took down all four Resetters… and now they're coming straight for us!"
The captain's mind reeled. A person?
Shoving his disbelief aside, the captain snapped into action. "Prepare for a full-scale counterattack!" he barked. "All ships, engage the intruder!"
The command spread like wildfire. Lights flickered to life across the mothership as its weapon systems powered up. Outside, in the vast darkness of space, hundreds of alien warships came to life, their sleek forms glowing with energy as they aligned into a defensive formation. These weren't ordinary vessels—they were top-tier interstellar warships, each armed with devastating firepower. They had been lying in wait, encircling Earth's Polar Star, ready to ensure the Church's complete dominance.
Until now, the fleet had remained undetected, avoiding Earth's advanced radar systems. But somehow, their hidden presence had been exposed. What the captain and his crew didn't realize was that Superman's enhanced perception had already scanned the entire area. After destroying the Resetters, Charlie , controlling Superman, had directed him straight toward the alien fleet.
From Charlie's perspective, the Earth's Polar Star was a distant memory, fading into the black void behind him. Superman soared through space at unimaginable speeds, the stars stretching into lines of light around him. Charlie's interface displayed every detail with crystal clarity, and even though it was just a screen, he could feel the sheer power and precision of Superman's movements. Time seemed to slow as Superman accelerated, every frame of his surroundings captured in perfect detail.
"Friday," Charlie said, his voice calm but laced with anticipation. As the alien fleet appeared ahead, a grin spread across his face. Hundreds of warships hung in formation, their glowing weapons bristling with readiness.
Before Friday could respond, Superman surged forward, his red and blue form becoming a streak of light against the black backdrop of space. The alien ships reacted instantly, unleashing a storm of plasma bolts, missiles, and energy beams. The void lit up with explosions as weapons filled the battlefield with deadly light. But Superman was already gone, moving too fast for their systems to keep up.
The fleet's computers scrambled to calculate his trajectory, but his speed was overwhelming. Superman was moving as fast as their starships at full warp—a speed no humanoid being should ever reach. To make matters worse, he wasn't just fast—he was indestructible.
The first warship, a colossal vessel bristling with weapons, loomed ahead. Superman didn't slow down. He barreled straight into it, piercing through its reinforced hull like a bullet through glass. The ship groaned under the impact, internal systems sparking as Superman ripped through its core. Seconds later, it erupted into a massive fireball, pieces of the ship scattering into the void.
Superman didn't stop. With a sharp turn, he targeted the second ship. This one had activated a protective energy shield designed to withstand the firepower of interstellar cannons. But to Superman, the shield might as well have been paper. He tore through it effortlessly, punching a hole through the ship from bow to stern. The shield remained intact—until the ship exploded moments later.
The fleet tried to adjust. Ships scattered, their weapons firing in every direction, but Superman was too small, too fast, and too powerful. To the Church's soldiers, it felt like they were fighting a ghost. Every time they thought they had him pinned down, he appeared somewhere else, leaving destruction in his wake.
In minutes, Superman destroyed seven warships, each one reduced to debris floating lifelessly in space. The fleet, once a symbol of the Church's might, now resembled a graveyard of smoldering wreckage. The surviving ships scrambled to regroup, but panic spread among their crews. They had never faced an enemy like this—an unstoppable force that defied all their tactics and weapons.
Inside the mothership, chaos erupted. Officers shouted over one another, their calm shattered by the sight of their once-mighty fleet falling apart. The captain stared at the monitors, his mouth dry and his thoughts scattered. This wasn't a battle—it was a massacre.
For the Church, this mission had been a guaranteed victory. Their fleet was supposed to dominate, to subdue Earth's defenses with ease. At worst, they had expected a hard fight. But no one had imagined this—a single being tearing through their forces like a storm. The realization hit hard: they weren't just losing. They were being hunted.
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